


This Ain't My First Rodeo

by orphan_account



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hawkmoth being his emo self, I have no idea what I'm doing, In a way, Slow Burn, So Wrong It's Right, THE AU LITERALLY NO ONE EVER ASKED FOR EVER ITS HORRID, all the gang, but Its gonna have the goods, i think this is what the cool kids call, im winging this, its just like my life, love square, the chapters basically are a mix of crack and drama, the whole shebang, this is why i can't have nice things, yknow hopefully
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6496096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"If I told you how all this happened you wouldn't believe me. You might believe that tiny benevolent faerie gods chose two random teenagers to fulfill the need for heroic action with the rise of a villain of their kind. You <b>might.</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>But you surely wouldn't believe the truth."</i></p><p> </p><p>The <i>American</i> AU nobody wanted.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Because in America, heros aren't chosen, they're manufactured.</i></p><p> </p><p>(Previously <i>Miraculous Y'all</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Kolache is a Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone asks, yes I like Welcome to Night Vale. Yes it was an inspiration. 
> 
> But also have you ever been to Texas??? Cause, I mean really.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet our two suffering youths and understand their plight.

There were two things in the Universe Marinette was completely sure of in the present moment.

  1. Whoever had decided that camouflage was fashionable to wear, should be shot. No pun intended
  2. Adrien Agreste's hair was made of concentrated sunshine.



 This was commonplace. These thoughts, wayward and fleeting. A normal part of a normal day, in the normal life of a normal girl in a normal school in a normal town. Completely ordinary and without anything to promote the unusual and extraordinary. Yes.

 

 Actually no.

* * *

* * *

* * *

It was funny how it was Autumn and yet the trees were greener than Springtime and the heat was hotter than August. 

 If by funny you mean annoying as hell.

If that wasn't bad enough, mucking around in spandex was not the ideal way to beat the heat of late September. Seriously, why wasn't cotton a thing everyone considered?

This was 2016, end the synthetic insanity.

But it was worth it, worth the feel of hot brick of roofs every time her feet actually touched them. Worth the scorch of the setting sun on her back, unforgivably **HOT.** Every year she wondered if Winter still existed or if it was just the acid dream of a Minnesotan. It always did get cold, _eventually_ _,_ but it never seemed like it really would.

 Worth every discomfort and headache she got from the sunlight. After all the sun would soon be out of sight, making way for a beautiful explosion of color.

 It was worth everthing, to see that gorgeous dusky view from the Eiffle Tower.

 Perched very comfortably in the brim of the giant ten-gallon hat molded jauntily on the top.

* * *

* * *

* * *

There is magic everywhere in the world, _everywhere._

 If you can't see it, then you just might not have learned how to use your eyes properly. It's not your fault, not really.

 To assume that such places that are prone to magic, like London or Tokyo or Ireland as a whole for good examples, are the only places magic exists in high and undiluted forms is foolishness. There are plenty of large reserves in smaller, unthinkable places. 

 Including but not limited to, smaller, unassuming, teen girls. And boys too.

 Teen girls, in smallish, unextrodianry, towns.

 Paris for example.

 

That is, _Paris, Texas, y'all._

* * *

* * *

* * *

There is two things Adrien Agreste could say about his life.

  1. The feeling of hair gel melting down your neck because of the freaking sun, which honestly it shouldn't be allowed to be this hot ever, will always be unnerving.
  2. #NotAllHomeschoolers



 It had been approximately five weeks since he had started his first year of school that was not taught at home.

People still hadn't stopped making a big deal.

He had dealt with close to 10 years of the constant "So when are your parents giving up this pipe dream and sending you to REAL school?" And "You should demand for your freedom."

And when his father had relented to give up his mother's so called _'pipe dream'_ and sent him to a private school, the question now stood at "It must be such a difficult transition for you." And "I'm sure you miss the freedom you had at home."

_????????????_

He was changing his school not changing his sex.

 Plus the way his new classmates acted around him was still a bit conveying of their discomfort.

 He didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable, not with his position as the son of a wealthy guy who picked fashion designers for Target, not with all the preconceived notions they had about him because of his introverted upbringing. Yet, he felt like he was.

 He thought getting out of the house every day would make him breathe better. His house seemed to be full of stale air and unsaid thoughts. It had been that way for months now. He had never felt like this at home before, but things had changed. 

Yet somehow school wasn't the answer either, he could open up a little bit, but not as much as he'd thought. And only two or three people had shown any interest in treating him like something other than a kid with a virus. 

Maybe they thought because he had been homeschooled he wasn't vaccinated.

He was tired of the stifling heat and the feeling of being stifled at both school and home. 

He wanted to be considered a normal boy, with a normal life, in a normal school, in a normal town. (Well, as normal as a town can get with a knockoff historic landmark at it's center only topped with their not so subtle nod to their overall ludicrously large state pride.)

Normal. Ordinary, not at all unusual. Yes.

 

Actually no.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Humidity had always been an enemy, his father and mother had both complained about it more than even about his overbearing grandmother's constant threats to ship him off to boarding school. 

 Humidity, the _can't breath, can't see, can't tame my wildly frizzy hair,_ enemy.

 It was still his enemy, he couldn't breathe. 

 He always metaphorically compared the confines of his home, education, and social lives, as being short of breath or unable to breathe. And you'd think escaping into the oncoming twilight would give him relief. But it didn't, he seriously couldn't breathe.

And black leather, was not the material of choice to be scampering about in hot September sun. How did bikers and ranchers do it? What a price to pay for fashion. 

 Heat, humidity, and melted hair gel. 

He was suffering.

 Perched on the roof of one of the many brick structures that made Downton, baking in the heat. Screaming up to the sky and looking very much like the animal akin to his theme.

 

"WHY CAN'T IT JUST FREAKING RAIN FOR ONCE?"

* * *

* * *

* * *

It _did_ rain.

At 2am.

Then there was a severe thunderstorm warning with radar sighted rotation. 

 A rain wrapped tornado in the dead of night taking away from precious sleep of a boy exhausted by life in general.

* * *

* * *

* * *

If I told you how all this happened you wouldn't believe me. You might believe that tiny benevolent faerie gods chose two random teenagers to fulfill the need for heroic action with the rise of a villain of their kind. You _might._

 But you surely wouldn't believe the truth.

That the hero choosing corporation _K_. _W_. _Amii Co._ or simply  _AmiiCo_  dumped these two poor unfortunate souls with magic destiny. That the company running under the guise of simple unspecified capitalism, had somehow cornered these two into superheroic activities. Suits, and super strength infusions, and secret identities, and the whole nine yards.

That they had zero to no choice in such a matter. That Adrien's father's sins had to be paid in such a way that almost put him as indentured servitude? A contract signed by force? Sugarcoated to make him believe this was a sweet deal and then crashing him with the worst luck he had ever expearinced. His entire life being taken from him when he attempted to escape.

AmiiCo had terrible ways of negotiating.

And poor naive Marinette. Lured in by shiny big city dreams of intern jobs in her home town to up and coming designers and fashion mavens. To only learn that her star studded dreams were built in false promises by a company that needed her to do something for them before they did something for her. They could give her the world or take it away from her.

That everything is silmultanously a truth and a lie? Yes.

 

Actually _yes._  


	2. AmiiCo More Like Oh Hell No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Tikki and Plagg are not what they seem.

A stack of papers, the third that day, dropped unceramoniously on the table in front of Marinette.

The petite fifteen year old eagerly tried to eye their unreadable contents as her companion sat down in the adjoining chair.

The AmiiCo board room looked innocently ordinary. A decitful contrast to the horrors occuring right in it's four walls. 

"What are these ones for Ms. Tikki?" The girl asked energetically and unknowingly with a tilt of the head.

Her companion, a woman of undefinable age, clad in a black buisness skirt-set and red blouse. Smiled a half-hearted smile at the bright young face in front of her. Her warm hued face held multiple lines betraying expearince, but her unnaturally red hair in it's tight bun held no strand of grey. And in a high and cheerful voice she responded in turn.

"This top one is a standard disclaimer form for insurance measures."

Marinette gulped a little nervously, only slightly unsettled how the woman could speak so cheerfully of a form that held the words _'in the event of injury or death.'_

Still she willingly scribbled her signature and moved on to the paper under it.

"Extra dry cleaning, for the suit. You know if anything unusal happens. You'll have to pay for it." Tikki explained rationally, and Mari decided not to ask what qualified as unusal in the past as she signed it as well.

Turning to the third sheet Ms. Tikki's face took a turn.

Marinette looked up from trying to decipher the minutely printed words and noted her new manager's discomposure.

"What's this one?" Mari asked quietly.

"This one is very important Marinette." She said holding a focused gaze into the girl's blue eyes. "It's a statement, saying you swear to never reveal your secret identity for any reason to anyone."

Marinette's eyes widened considerably as she considered what that entailed.

"Not my parents?"

Tikki shook her head.

"Alya, or any of my friends? What about my future husband someday? Or any kids?" 

"No, no friends, no family, not even significant others." Tikki said with a certain tone of finality to her voice. "I'm sure you're familiar with enough superheros to know why. It's for their own safety."

Mari nodded gravely and said softly "Hawkmoth could use them against me."

She signed.

* * *

* * *

* * *

"This wasn't in the contract Plagg." 

The young man with sunshine hair said harshly as he confronted his trainer.

Somewhere deep in the confines of AmiiCo, where dubious machines whirred and stirred and all sorts of questionable activity happened under the much dimmer light.

"Actually it was." Replied a man who might have been taken for a ridiculous wild west villain in his black cowboy hat and long wispy mustache. He chuckled without mirth "It was the _'precautionary measures'_ we had to take to ensure you didn't break your side of the deal."

"You tricked me." Adrien yelled over the constant hum of the machines. "I trusted you."

"Not my problem, you have a bad judge of character." The older man deadpanned.

"I never wanted any part of this, you said I would be doing good, being a hero." Adrien's voice was wavery and his eyes held betrayal but he stood strong.

"And you still are, kid. We just had to make sure you'd come through on your side of the contract." Plagg shot back with his excellent poker face for feigning indifference, he used it to his utmost advantage.

Adrien stood silent in the midst of the chaotic noise. His face showing every emotion at once. Maybe there was still something that looked like compassion left in the gruff man's heart as he tried to remedy a little.

"Look kid, I know this isn't the way it was supposed to go, but your dad is-"

"Oh yes, _my_ dad. My dad who did _something,_ something so horrible that _I_  have to pay for it. Something so horrible no one will tell me what it is. But no, I have to pay for his crimes against AmiiCo, with more crimes against _me._ " Adrien interrupted angrily.

"The executives just decided it would be the best decision, I personally did not agree but I know my opinion means nothing to them." Plagg said almost apologetically. 

Adrien's breathing slowed as his temper went down as quickly as it flared up.

"You couldn't do anything?" He asked a bit softer now.

"I'm sorry Adrien." The older man said laying a gentle hand on the boys shoulder as he left him alone to his thoughts and the mechanical sound. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

"Thank you Ms. Tikki." Marinette said with a sincere smile as the last of the papers were signed.

"For what?" Said the older woman mirroring her smile. It was infectious.

"Well, for giving me this opportunity. I mean I came in here you know, not exactly expecting this to be the job I was interviewed for. My _first_ job. Yet, even so, I'm so glad to have this chance to do good. I'm just a simple girl y'know? I never expected to be chosen to be any super heroine, to help people, to save lives." Mari looked off a little into some distant future of crime fighting playing out in her mind "so thank you, for giving me this chance to do the right thing."

Tikki's practiced smiles overtook her overwhelming desire to frown a little, the conscious laying somewhere under her polyester business suit felt very uneasy. "There's no need for thanks Marinette, we should be thanking you." 

"Still, you put in a good word for me, I owe you so much" Mari said, blissful in ignorance "would you mind very much if I hugged you?"

The older woman was taken by surprise as the girl gingerly dove in with her approval. 

She looked toward the office door over the bluenette's head as she contemplated. Knowing down that hallway were things she didn't want to face.

 _"The right thing."_ It was said like a whispered prayer.


	3. Too Nye To Die.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I start dragging out this story for absoloutely no reason except to set up the setting properly and establishing their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some Platonic Alyanette fluff for your troubles. 
> 
> Alya slips into the role of Sassy Southern Mom-Friend so well, she probably has one of those necklaces shaped like Texas with a little heart over Paris, I swear to God.
> 
> Also total shoutout to DaisyQueenYisel, a certain thing that happens in this chapter she is completely responsible for.

Sweet smells wafted from just under the wooden floorboards of the bedroom, rousing Marinette from sleep.

 _And oh here comes the nausea._  

The stomach turning combination of thoughts of sugary pastry and the unforgiving heat hit her like a freight train.

Everyone thought that living above Paris' best Kolache and Donut shop was some sort of dream come true. 

It wasn't. 

They never considered what it was like living in a sixty-something year old apartment above a hot bakery oven in Texas heat. Bad insulation, and an air conditioner you can't count on. They never considered what it was like having a wheat allergy, when your parents are bakers. _Beautiful._  

They never considered how hard it is to eat in the morning when you're hot, exhausted and smelling something that has made you puke at least six times.

They never considered how guilty it made a person feel to have to refuse the wondrous talents of their parents efforts morning after morning. 

Marinette slid out of her bed groggily, not even feeling that concept of _'awake'_ as she hurried through her morning routine. Her arms ached, her legs ached, she'd developed two more masses of muscle in the night after yesterday's infusion and training efforts. Though her super strength and other powers wouldn't completely instill in her until she was within possession of the Miracle Stones, deceptively disguised as earrings. They emanated most of the magic and were of course extremely important to keep safe. And unfortunately despite their innocent appearance, Hawk Moth knew what they looked like, for whatever reason. She had come to realize soon after her training began, that this game was far bigger than her, and she was merely a piece in play.

It was surely all worth it though, to be there for her hometown when duty called. AmiiCo seemed to be playing merely a waiting game with Hawk Moth now, watching to see where he'd strike first. It seemed odd to her that the city must be attacked before they could begin going after him. They seemed to already know a great deal about him, they couldn't be that far from discovering his whereabouts. And if he posed such a great threat wouldn't it be easier to stop him before the thing could start? It would surely be better than to make innocent people suffer at the hand of his madness just to play a waiting game. 

Mari shook her head in the mirror as she brushed out her hair, maybe she just didn't understand Super Heroics as well as they did? She was just a newbie after all.

 

Finally stumbling down the stairs she greeted her parents with a "Morning." a kiss on the cheek and "god, it's hot.".

The shop was in breakfast rush mode as she made her way out, quick "love you"s to her parents and a simple "bye y'all." To their employees. She hated saying y'all, but there are some things that cannot be helped when you have bluebonnet blood.

Alya was waiting just outside the door nibling on a signature of the shop's: Breakfast Sopapilla. _Don't ask._

She greeted Mari in the proper fashion of any Parisian.

"Morning," and then "fuck, it's hot."

The proper response on the part of Mari being "Morning," and "hell yeah it is." 

Once these traditional pleasantries were exchanged the girls easily fell in step with each other towards their bus stop. Or actually, Alya walked and Mari trudged leaning on her, as Alya continued the conversation ever the supportive best friend.

"You look like death." 

"I'm aware." Mari said drowsily.

"Girl, you really are out of it, there was only tiny traces of sarcasm in that comment. What the hell do you do all night?"

"Internet." It wasn't entirely a lie, Mari took great comfort in Pinterest at the end of a long day. Plus it was the best excuse she could think of.

"You've got a Tumblr then probably right? You've got to get your priorities straight, Hun. You can't devote your life to some _fan obsession blog."_  

Alya was talking with her sensible voice, her mom-friend voice. It was both comforting and absolutely annoying. Mari just wanted her to shut up and let her sleep on her shoulder. 

"Pinterest." Was her feeble protest.

Alya turned slightly to her as she made little sympathetic clicking sounds in her throat. "Aw you poor thing, here I am going on and on about your terrible sleeping habits and I should just let you rest. I bet you have a headache, do you need some Tylenol or anything for it?" She slung her arm around the girl guiding her up the bus steps gently.

Marinette smiled weakly but appreciatively, in the end, having a mom friend was nice. 

"Nah, I'm good, thanks Alya. I just want to take a little nap."

They settled down in their seats as Mari's head settled gently on her best friend's shoulder. 

"You go right ahead honey, I won't disturb you." Alya popped in her earbuds and stroked Mari's head comfortingly.

"You're the best." Said the smaller girl as she fell into slumber.

"You better believe it." 

* * *

* * *

* * *

  Adrien Agreste's guide to _'real'_ school for the previously home educated.

  1. Despite what trustworthy sources (Hannah Montana, Chloe) might lead you to believe, _'cool'_ students do NOT refer to the cafeteria as the _'caf'._  
  2. Anime Club is **NOT** a place where rational minded Anime fans discuss their mutual love of Japanese animation.
  3. Fellow students doing questionably intimate things together in the corner of the hall? Just walk past man, just walk past.
  4. Be enthusiastic about football. It's easier. You might figure out how it works if you observe enough, maybe.
  5. There's a surprising lack of wild teen parties with underage drinking, seven minutes in heaven, and red solo cups. (At least Adrien hadn't been invited to one yet).
  6. Don't even try to flaunt your excellent Physics puns. Nobody freaking cares.
  7. No, you didn't take the _STAAR_ test.
  8. It may seem for a while like a lot of the school is really overly excited about seasonal flowers, but actually a _mum_ is something that for some reason has to do with football.
  9.  If you insult country music... **_rip._**  
  10. Friends aren't as easily made as you'd think.



* * *

* * *

* * *

A silence fell over the classroom as Ms. Mendeleiev dragged in a metal rolling TV stand that Adrien figured might possibly pre-date his conception. The television and VCR atop it did nothing to deny this assumption either. 

A few murmurs of excitement swept through the class as she gave an annoyed groan, popped in a video and promptly left the classroom once more.

The class erupted in cheers and celebratory noises as one kid, Kim? Adrien recalled his name being, began chanting under his breath. 

 _"bill._ Bill. BilL. BiLL. BILL. BILL! BILL! **BILL! _BILL! BILL!"_**

The chant rose as it garnered popularity and volume. Each student joining in with a fervor unmatched.

Adrien was absoloutly terrified. 

Adrien turned to his closest seat neighbor, Nino. Who he had a small but growing friendship forming with, hoping for normalcy or at least an explanation. However to his horror, Nino was chanting along, pumping his fist, his eyes glued on the television in a trance like state.

_Oh no, they got Nino._

He blanched in his seat as he searched the room for some semblance of sanity. The chant filling his ears like a demonic summoning.

His gaze lit upon Marinette. His other newly made friend, sitting just behind him. Who, by some Miracle or Magic power was sleeping through the ruckus. She looked so peaceful, he didn't want to wake her, but at the same time, he also needed some sort of comforting companionship. And from what he had seen of Marinette in recent weeks, she was a very comforting sort of person. Also she probably wouldn't laugh at his ignorance of he asked her for an explanation, so that appealed to him. He made up his mind and tapped her on the arm, gently but enough to make her stir.

"Five more minutes Alya, please, sheesh." She mumbled irritably. Waving off the hand that had rudely roused her from her rest. 

"I'm sorry to disturb you Marinette,  I'm just a little freaked out and I didn't want to be alone." 

Marinette shot up, eyes wide and awake, like a deer in the headlights.

"Adrien?!?" 

He wished she didn't always sound so intimidated when he talked to her. She was of course very friendly and open, but she always sounded terrified to speak to him. He wondered how he could set her more at ease around him, but no matter how casual and gentle he was she still didn't seem any less terrified. 

"I'm sorry I woke you." He said sheepishly, hoping she could hear him over the deafening ruckus. "But I knew you wouldn't laugh at me if I asked what the hell is going on?"

Mari blinked mutely, a million and one thoughts going through her mind. Most of them in the form of singular exclamations 

_Adrien!_

_Speaking!_

_Me!_

**_Shit!_ **

And also the more constant background thought of 

**_AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_ **

And then the rational bits asking the important questions

_What the hell **IS** going on??_

And the simplest command

 _FOR THE LOVE_ _OF GOD, **TALK.**_

Shaking away her inner process and any dust that collected during her hibernation period. _How embarrassing, oh god._ Her mouth found it's muscle memory doing it's job.

"It's uhh, it's uhhhhh."

Adrien's beautiful imploring eyes were staring right into her soul. And she was probably going to have a stroke. How great would that cause of death look in her obituary? 

 _Cause of Death: Adrien Agreste._  

Or actually considering the chanting of her classmates, they might blame it on the excitement of watching a Bill Nye video. 

_Cause of Death: Bill Nye the Science Guy._

_ Cause of Death: SCIENCE _

_Pull yourself together you limp teabag._

"You've n-never um, watched B-bill Nye?" 

 _The stutter._ Her great enemey.

Marinette had several fantasies were she was standing in the center of a dusty road in a ghost town somewhere in west Texas. She wore a stetson and spurs. The thing she had chosen to personify her stutter looked suspiciously like Chloe, but that didn't matter. The cliche movie music played in the background as the two faced off in a tense staring contest. Each daring the other to make the first move. Marinette wished she could perform a quick draw and fire the shot that would leave her stutter laying in the dust of that ghost town. That never seemed to happen though.

_This town ain't big enough for the two of us, ya dirty speech impediment._

Adrien meanwhile scratched his neck with embarrassment at the question. He had a feeling that his lack of experience here was highly unheard of. "No?" He admitted looking down shamefully.

He looked up again as he felt a hand laid comfortingly on his shoulder.

He was right, Marinette was good at that.

She smiled shyly. "You're l-lucky then, you get to e-experience him, for the first time." 

_Houston, we have lift off._

Adrien returned the smile. And somewhere a baby laughed and a fairy was born and some peace treaty was signed after a long war and an angel got it's wings.

The video tape finally found it's place post opening previews as the iconic theme sang out with the help of the class.

_**"BILL NYE THE SCIENCE GUY!"** _


	4. The Chapter in Which Adrien Finally Swears.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, as I said, Adrien swears.
> 
> Other things happen too.

It was zero hour.

The time had come.

How had Marinette come to such a conclusion in the middle of an otherwise peaceful morning in Movies as Literature class?

 _Call it Hero's Intuition._  

That gut wrenching feeling that something was majorly wrong.

No wait, that was the banana she had eaten this morning for an actual breakfast.

_Big mistake._

Well maybe it was the vibration of her phone in her jean pocket, going off incessantly with urgent texts from Tikki?

Or quite possibly a good sign was the screams of terror from somewhere outside.

 

_Yeah that might have been it._

 

The entire class fell silent for a moment as Ms. Bustier paused the projection of _To Kill_ _A_ _Mockingbird._

Heads turned to the continued interspersed screams coming from just beyond the closed door.

The silence ceased when _someone,_ ~~(~~ ~~Chloe)~~  decided to screech "IT'S A MASS SHOOTER!"

Any rational thought was drowned out immediately by the panic that ensued.

Rose was hyperventilating in the corner as Juleka attempted to calm her. Max rocked back and forth under his desk with his knees pressed to his chest, praying. Mylene was worriedly texting Ivan, who had been sent to the principle not twelve minutes before. Nino had pulled out a paper to write his will. While Alya yelled at him that now was not the time.

Now, standard emergency procedure would have called for the door to be barricaded. Any windows too. Students to huddle behind a large heavy barrier and the teacher to alert the authorities. 

In short there would have been no way for either Adrien or Marinette to leave the room.

And it would have happened too, if this wasn't _Texas._  

As Ms. Bustier prepared to set the emergency plan into motion a certain burly boy by the name of Jackson but spelled like _Jaxon_ emerged from behind his desk. In his hands, a  really truly _**rifle.**_ _Yes._

 

"I'll handle this y'all." He said sauntering over to the door despite the panic that was now two fold what it had been. And despite the protest of teacher and students alike. 

In the havoc, Adrien discreetly slipped out without notice.

 

Marinette was not so lucky. She was stopped by Alya just as she had almost made it out the door. 

"Mari, what the fuck? You can't go out there!" This statement drawing the immediate attention that Marinette had not wanted. 

"Marinette, you may not leave this classroom. We do not know if it is safe." Ms. Bustier said with an uncharacteristically stern tone.

It was time for some quick thinking.

"Please Ms. Bustier, I have to use the bathroom, it's an _emergency."_ She subtly pointed to her purse as to convey the reason.

The teacher did receive the message, as did most of the class but that wasn't important right now. 

"I understand, but I'm still not sure-"

She was cut off abruptly as a voice went over the intercom. "Students! Teachers! Do not be alarmed! We have the situation, under control." Principle Damocles scratchy voice spoke through the speaker like a gift from the heavens to Marinette.

Ms. Bustier looked back at her pupil with worry and skepticism but sighed with a drop of her shoulders in relent. "Alright, but please, be careful."

"Yes Ma'am." Then with a half-hearted look to Alya's shocked and concerned face she ducked out of the classroom as the panic continued inside.

 

Slipping down the hallway and into the bathroom she sucked in a nervous breath as she dialed her phone.

"I'm sorry I couldn't answer, I was trapped in class." She apologized without greeting. 

> " _No worries Marinette, but I think you know why I've been trying to reach you._ " 

Marinette breathing grew heavier as she faced her reflection in the mirror. Thankful for the bathroom's lack of occupants. 

> _"I know you're nervous."_

Came Tikki's high voice with a reassuring tone over the phone.

> _"But I know you'll do amazingly. I believe in you."_  

Mari nodded to herself as she braced for the words about to leave her mouth.

"Tikki? _**Spots on?"**_

> _ "Spots on." _

And her trainer hung up.

She dug the specially lined box out of her purse. Popping it open as she held the magical earrings in her palm. She could feel it's energy coursing up her arm just holding them.

With one last farewell to reluctance she removed her elephant shaped studs from her ears and replaced them with the Miracle Stones. 

A mix of raw energy with a twinge of pain spread through her like wildfire. With this amount of strength she felt her worries crept in regarding control.

 _"You've done excellently."_ Tikki's words from their last training simulation floated through her mind. _"When the time comes you'll be more than ready."_

Taking another shaky breath as the pain began to subside she found the last key to her transformation. A small round compact-like yo-yo. Or at least if she had to describe it, she'd call it a yo-yo. Clicking the device at her hip and pressing down into it with applied pressure she watched as the tiny microscopic fibers of her supersuit unfolded like magic. The cut forming to her body and fitting like a glove. Stopping in correct places and starting where her mask needed to be. It was the latest AmiiCo tech and it was **BOSS.**  

She admired herself once in the mirror before a scream broke her thought processes.

_Oh fuck, right._

She sprinted out of the bathroom feeling a little blind, a little naive, but also like she had just grown a pair of wings.

Now here's to hoping this partner Tikki mentioned was aggreable.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Adrien wondered how long a guy could take a piss.

It had been what, ten minutes now? What the hell was that guy doing in there? _Oh wait, don't answer that._

"Can you maybe hurry a little?" He asked trying to sound polite but knowing his irritation was probably coming through. And yet he honestly didn't care, this was a fucking emergency.

See? He was mad enough to cuss inwardly, that said something.

"Woah dude, what you can't use the bathroom with other people present?" Came the voice beyond the stall door.

"Nope." Adrien didn't give a damn about what this was going to do to his reputation at this point.

A flush and the stall opened as an older kid stepped out looking Adrien up and down critically.

"Oh you're that homeschooled kid."

_Nice._

"Yeah, I know, I'm weird, anti social, whatever. Can you please just hurry up?"

"Geez, yeah man, sorry." The kid backed off, maybe it was the way the fluorescent light shone off Adrien's newly developed muscle mass that made the sunshine child appear formidable. _Better not mess._

In mere moments the bathroom was vacated. Adrien gave a small sigh of relief as he pulled out his phone.

Three rings, Adrien almost doubted he would even answer. 

> _"I take it you figured it out?"_

Came the sardonic drawl from the other end.

"You didn't even try to tell me." 

> _"Look kid, it wasn't necessary, since I knew you would call me. Why bother you when you weren't gonna answer anyway?_ "

Adrien surprisingly couldn't argue with that although God knows he wanted to.

> _"Just be glad you don't have a crappy catchphrase. Get out there catboy, you'll_ probably _do fine."_

"Glad you have so much faith in me Plagg." The boy responded dryly. "What about this partner you mentioned, are they waiting for me? How am I supposed to find them?"

Plagg made an annoyed sound.

> _"Hell if I know Adrien, maybe look for the other fucking person dressed up like a super hero. Christ, what an idiot."_

And he hung up, not letting anymore of Adrien's stupidity clog up the telephone lines.

Adrien rolled his eyes at his reflection as he dug the tiny protected pouch out of his bag that held the ring. Unlike Marinette, he had worn it before during training. Plagg had figured he better get used to it. _"You have enough bad luck without you stumbling around from energy spasms_."

Slipping it on. Then clicking the small stick-like baton at his side he felt the suit and mask wash over him in a black wave. It was _leather._  

Black leather on a 97° day _. Joy to the world._

Still he took a moment to admire the sleekness of it in the mirror. The ears threw him off a bit.

"Not bad."

He felt like a villain's henchman in a KPOP video.

He gave a wink to the reflection in the mirror.

"You've just been rescued," he said in a voice that tried (and failed) to sound like some suave Harrison Ford knockoff. "by _the Handsom Panther."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He didn't say Claws Out, I had to make him ridiculous somehow.
> 
> God, I watched too much Wordgirl.


	5. By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien makes puns and bad first impressions, or good ones?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which I had to legit Google _rock puns_ and it lead me to a freaking Minecraft forum that I would imagine 13 year old Texas homeschooler Adrien Agreste probably contributed to tbh.  
>  Also he watched Veggietales enough to have a not even popular musical number stuck in his head.
> 
> Also History Nerd Adrien on the scene
> 
> Also Mari can't name things
> 
> Also... i love them

You'd have to be pretty stupid not to realize that Principal Damocles very reassuring little speech over loudspeaker was merely a facade. _Or maybe the screaming that started up again not 3 minutes after, might give it away._

No one knew quite what to make of the situation.

Something resembling Ivan, but a good deal bigger, was standing in the hallway bellowing formidably. 

**"I am the Stone-Hearted and I shall have my revenge."**

It looked like a big clunky rock monster and Adrien Agreste of course had to have his first thought be ridiculous.

* * *

 

> _"We were on a beach._
> 
> _I was running from evil cheese._
> 
> _They were trying to eat me up but they ran into a rock._
> 
> _But it wasn't a rock._
> 
> _It was a rock monsterrr!"_

* * *

_Seriously?_

#MaybeAllHomeschoolers

"Hey rock-bottom! Maybe it's time you caved-in."

The monster's attention now gained Adrien ran headlong like the idiot he was and immediately got side swiped by a chunky thing that at one time was a hand. 

Smashed through the wall, a splintered mess of dry wall and fake brick and Adrien was saying a thankful prayer that he was a lot more durable in his technological wonder of a super suit. 

This was not how he'd imagined this would go when he was fantasizing about it last night while listening to the _Pirates of the Caribbean_ soundtrack.

He landed with a creaky thud on the rusty old merry-go-round previously sitting idly in the park next to the school. A good 100 feet from where he'd started. 

Adrien floundered on his back, legs askew.

He became aware that the earth was turning faster than usual as the aging playground piece pivoted wildly.

You know the thing I'm talking about. Paint chipped. Probably installed some year before the _Aniston-Pitt_ break up. That thing your mom was probably really freaked out by because there was a new story every week about some kid getting stuck in that little space under it where those crappy little woodchips you find in playgrounds dip down to make this little crevice. And you could get caught in there and if the thing was going fast and tilting then seriously, kids died. And you either hold on for dear life and puke afterwards when your brother spins it too fast or you are the one blessed with the job of spinning it. And you literally feel betrayed by the world, because _wow life is really unfair_. And in a moment of madness you probably would lie flat on your back with your head partially hung off and dared your best friend to spin it because you were a wild rebellious thrill seeker. The staple of a good old fashioned American playground.

Suddenly the whirl of the world rushing past above him came to a grinding halt as the merry-go-round stopped in place.

Coming out of blurry sight Adrien looked straight into the bluest eyes he had seen in his life. 

"Need a hand?" She asked smiling like a cloudless summer afternoon. She had dimples, he didn't even know that was a thing people could have actually, he thought it was a myth. Then this delightful creature actually deigned to giggle softly, tacking on a mock accented "Partner?" 

This couldn't be real, Adrien ' _Born on Friday the 13th'_ Agreste could not have been blessed by some kind twist of fate to have this angelic being as his partner in this absurd game he had been forced to play.

_Un-fucking real._

"Hey Bobcat? You okay there?"

She tried again as Adrien still had not enunciated in response to her first inquiry. Merely staring dazed and adoringly at her face for a good two minutes.

"It seems you've got me spinning around, Blue Bell."

_No, crap, that was not, no. Shit. Can he rewind? Those were not the right words, that was not what he wanted, hell._

She gave him a look. It was something in between " _Are you seriously trying to flirt with me?"_ and _"Are you seriously trying to flirt with me with PUNS?"_

In essence she looked unimpressed, and only lightly amused. Though there was a playfulness in her tone as she half-deadpanned

"I could just start spinning this thing again."

Adrien jumped up hastily briefly taking her hand she held out to steady him.

"That is, what I meant is. Yes, thanks." Of course the only rationally said things out of his mouth would have to be puns. Where was his usual unflustered self?

"You're my partner?" He finally sputtered tripping over multiple words along the way.

"Dissapointed?" She asked candidly. There was a slight unease to her voice but only a trained observer could detect it, as if she really was worried he was dissapointed. However Adrien was not a trained observer and even if he was he would miss a great deal. 

"Not at all um, I seem to have missed _catching_ your name?" There, that sounded like some sophisticated David Tennent style suave. Wait.

Actually he sounded like he was trying _way_ too hard.

"I don't believe I _threw_ it. It's uh..." She stood thinking for a moment. Looking at her attire for ideas.

After a moment she looked him once over.

"Well, what's _yours?"_

Adrien then rocked back on his heels with a Cheshire grin. 

"I am," He began grandly leaning forward with a musketeer's flourish in a ballet style pose and swooping to pick up her hand to kiss it.

_"The Handsome Panther."_

She slipped her hand from his grasp as she lifted it up to her mouth to snort into it as she burst into giggles. 

"You're kidding right?"

Adrien looked confused, and a tiny but hurt. He thought it _sounded_ heroic. At least after his 4th Dr. Pepper, sometime around 3am last night. 

Nino had gotten him slightly addicted against his father's wishes and had helped him smuggle in quite a few cans of the stuff. Who needs drugs when you have 23 flavors _amirite?_

Her laughter dropped off as she studied his reaction. 

"You're _not_ kidding."

She grimaced a little and Adrien imagined that if this was _Animal Crossing_ right now she would have little gears turning beside her head to indicate deep thought.

"Look um," she hesitated and tried again "well you see," she watched his sad, rejected, little shoulders and tried once more "can I-?" She stepped forward and _holy shit that was her hand on his shoulder, she was touching him of her own accord, don't freak man._ "Can I make a suggestion?" She asked tentatively looking into his eyes steadily.

He nodded, still not even attempting to speak after being rendered mute by her actions. 

"How about... Chat Noir?" 

_Chat, okay he could see where she would get that._

_Noir, so double French. That would make._..

"French for Black Cat?" 

"Yeah." She nodded half to herself, seemingly getting pumped for her own idea. "Cause we're in Paris? A little nod to the town we're protecting."

God help any of the cats she had renamed in Neko Atsume. He could only imagine.

_Cat Rufus?_

_Gato Blanco?_

Well he knew she couldn't _actually_ be perfect.

 _"Okay..._ well, can _I_ make a suggestion?" He said, finding his voice again.

"Depends. Is it a pun?"

She had just literally told him to call himself _**Black Cat**_ and _she_ was complaining?

"No more than yours." The cheeky smile that followed melted into a softer one. "I think you should call yourself Ladybird."

She looked bewildered "Don't you mean Ladybug?" Motioning to her spotted suit.

"No, I mean Ladybird, it's the same as a ladybug but I think it suits you better." He shrugged "I mean the reasons are a little convoluted but, like _Ladybird_ Johnson."

She stared blankly. 

"The First Lady?" He tried.

"Of America?" She asked not catching on.

"That and of Texas too." He confirmed, trying not to display his nerdery in full splendor. 

"Well she would be." She still had no idea who this boy was speaking of, nor where this was going, but she hadn't paid the best attention when the subject has come up in class.

"No I mean, she was First Lady of Texas first and then when her husband LBJ became president she was First Lady overall."

He could feel his voice slipping into passionate rant mode but he couldn't stop it now.

"Anyway, she was a wonderful person who was wholly dedicated to making Texas and then America beautiful. You know how when you drive through Texas in Springtime the side of the highway is always filled with wildflowers? That was her idea. She wanted less litter clogging up the environment and more natural beauty. So she would drive for miles and miles across America throwing seeds into the roadsides and then she got groups together to pick up trash and waste and keep it up. The next Spring the sides of highways were ablaze with color. Bluebonnets, Golden Rod, Indian Paintbrush, even Wild Daisies and all because of Ladybird." 

She looked at him with a slight awe. The boy was really passionate about this. 

"Someone's been reading up on their history." She said softly. "But what does that have to do with me?"

"Well when I hear the name Ladybird, I think of fields of wildflowers, _bluebonnets_ especially. And uh." He rubbed his neck and looked down bashfully. "Your eyes are very blue."

Aforementioned eyes widened in surprise. And without even meaning to she blushed just slightly. She removed the hand she hadn't realized she'd rested on his shoulder and held it out in a gesture to shake.

 _"Well,_  I guess my name is Ladybird. Defender of Paris, Texas. What's yours?"

He looked up and saw her smile, the dimples were back. He offered his own hand and shook hers resolutely.

"My name is Chat Noir, Defender of Paris, Texas. Pleased to meet you _Little Birdie."_

It was one of those moment that would live for eternity, I suppose. And like all moments it was broken by the realization that real life was still going on around them. Another rampant set of screams sounding. 

"Fuck, I almost forget." She said signaling for him to follow her as she zipped off on her yo-yo.

 

And thus a dynamic duo was born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so for the kids in the back
> 
> 1\. Adrien has the song Rock Monster stuck in his head. The song is from the actual best part of the Veggietales movie The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything. Because Adrien is a nerd. However I must point out this song shares an uncannily similar guitar opening with a P!ATD song. Also it's a parody of the song Rock Lobster.
> 
> 2\. The Aniston-Pitt break up my young children who are unawares happened in the early 2000s and is still something which a lot of people can recall as the true end of the 90s. It's also a thing people hold against Angelina Jolie. I actually don't blame her as much tbh, it was Brad's fault. You see the entirety of America was in love with Jennifer Aniston, why wouldn't you be she was great. So when Brad Pitt dumps her and all our OTP dreams shatter then a lot of people got mad. I got mad at Brad Pitt because he seriously dumped Jennifer Aniston? That was like dumping Whitney Housten or Julia Roberts you just don't DO that. @Brad Pitt, Fuck u.
> 
> 3\. Adrien does not handle Caffeine well
> 
> 4\. Ladybird Johnson was real and epic, go get a biography about her kids, you can find one at your local library!! (Wow)
> 
> 5\. I AINT WRITING NO BATTLE SCENE


	6. Ol Moth Balls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally meet our villain.
> 
> It's up to you to deduce who I'm talking of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer Aniston won the Most Beautiful Woman of 2016 award and I am justified forever. Also my birthday was very recently and super great and I aced my finals and haha life is good. :)))) But also I can't write and so this is short because it needed an update

_You enter a very dark room_

_and sitting there in the gloom..._

* * *

* * *

* * *

The wheel of a desk chair squeaked in a manner that seemed to signify it's terror. No doubt caused by the specimen of sort currently situated in it's Italian Leather seat.

A sinister laugh followed, filling up the room with it's malicious aura. Deep and throaty from a dark abyss of the black soul. The one who had uttered it liked to think it sounded akin to a nasty Bond villain.

Actually it sounded like he was trying _way_ too hard.

You could almost feel his mix of evil delight and constant state of brooding as his eyes fixed on what lay in front of him. Six very large desktop computer monitors, each holding a different angle of surveillance from the viewpoint of his moving target. 

It was amazing what a little common American Mind Control tech and Ancient Magic stones could do when conjoined for evil. Along with some handy cloaked droid technology, generously donated to his cause by the Armed Forces secret files. Not to mention the ability for the magic to shift a person's appearance to fit their needs. _Aesthetic._  

Coming together to conjure up the ultimate in proxy supervillianary, all from the comfort of his air conditioned, Wi-fi ready, inconspicuous office. Complete with a Keurig of course. 

The only problem of course, was the applicants.

Today's case for instance, a 20-something dip dyed blonde. The kind that had been rejected from American Idol multiple times, because _I'm sorry hun, you don't sound just like Kelly Clarkson._

It came to the point where someone had finally told her the truth. And as usually happened in 99.99% of recent cases, something inside her snapped. In a Z formation at that. 

Seeking her revenge on the unlucky soul who had crossed her. HawkMoth opted for his usual request. 

"Bring me the Miraculous Stones."

She had also opted for an _unusual_ request.

"You know, I could call you _HawkDaddy_. You sound like a Mr. Grey type. I could really go for that if you want to like meet up later?"

HawkMoth decided he really needed a someone to screen these people. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 "It's not fair." Ladybird remarked as the duo swung across the skyline after a particularly quick villain.

"What? Life?" Was Chat's cheeky response.

"Well, yeah." Conceded his companion with a shrug and a tilt of head. "But I mean, the thing that gives us our powers, our Miraculous' always look the same right? And HawkMoth knows what they look like. But with the villains, the thing their magic is attached to is always different and we have to figure it out." 

Chat was already head over heels for his partner, but her naivety to the entire situation still surprised him. She still didn't realize this was simply a dangerous game with no true winner.

He looked at her seriously, his tone to match his face.

"Birdie, _none_ of this is really fair."

* * *

"So I started a blog."

It was a common sight. Two girls sat perched on the steps of the library, shaded from August dusk, chattering. However for one half of the duo at least the words were quite uncommon, if not unexpected.

It was said so nonchalantly, that it could almost slip by as something that could conceivably come out of Alya ' _The Internet is tearing apart face to face communication and personal relationships one app at a time'_  Cesaire's mouth unnoticed.

Actually. No.

"You," Deadpanned Marinette with disbelief. Recalling a previous and all too recent conversation on the same subject and all arguements against it. Alya was apparently an amnesiac.

"Yes me," Alya supplied with a completely unapologetic smile that Marinette might have glared at in return if she had not been flabbergasted.

"Started a blog." It wasn't phrased as a question. It was a statement. A truthful statement. It had to be true, no matter how ludicrous, Marinette did not want to be a liar. 

"Yes, I started a blog."

"A _blog,_ blog?" An extremely vaguely phrased question.

"A blog blog." The colorful haired girl confirmed. 

"Really?" Mari knew she sounded like a sardonic smartass right now, and looked it too with shifty eyes and a knowing smirk. Alya was rubbing her neck uncomfortably now, however. Marinette was no idiot.

"Okay so it's a Tumblr blog." She admitted, feigning indifference.

"Mmm..." The look the bluenette returned conveyed every ounce of her vindication. "Multi-fandom or something specific?" She asked returning her gaze now that her amazement had passed to her work. 

It may have seemed foolish to be knitting something so useless as a beanie in 96° heat, but Winter was known to pop up anytime between the months of October to April. She be dammned if she wasn't going to meet it prepared.

"What makes you think it's not an aesthetic blog? You don't know _me."_

That was met with a roll of the eyes. _"Uh,_ yeah I **do."** She poked a knitting needle into her _Poisen Ivy_ tank top. Drawing Alya's eyes from it as she dragged it up her shirt to tap her on the nose teasingly. Alya went cross eyed as she focused on it and then saw the face of her best friend with the usual smirk of silent judgement. Mari had been there when Alya dyed her hair to match the fictional character's, after all. Then smiled as she resumed her knitting, letting the truth slip out of Alya like a tube on a lazy river.

"It's purely professional." Alya insisted.

 _"Sure Jan."_ Mari ho-hummed under her breath, not looking up. 

"It's to document sightings and information about **Ladybug!"** She continued and Marinette grimaced, _seriously?_  

"Who?" She asked with feigned innocence. Maybe it was rude to bait your best friend in such a way, maybe it was even ruder for your best friend to _start a fan blog about your alter ego and **not even get the name right**_ **.**

"That new superhero, you know, Ladybug." Alya had figured Marinette ' _I don't watch the news but know everything anyway like some freak with an illegal police scanner_.' Dupain-Cheng would have heard something.

In fact she was counting on it, whoever heard of a media platform proclaiming inside information getting their information two weeks cold? This was the age of information and she was no _Lois Lane_ waiting around for _Superman_ to bring her a story. 

"Oh you mean _Ladybird_." With killing emphasis. 

"Well that's what that _cat guy_ who follows her around calls her." Alya reasoned sounding unconvinced.

"Her _partner?"_ Marinette grumbled.

"But she's obviously a Ladybug." Alya nodded to herself, like a child who had incorrectly answered a question with assurance they got it right. "And you'll love what I called it." She dug her phone out without self-control any longer, obviously proud of her work.

"The **_Ladyblog."_** Marinette sighed heavily, as she read it aloud.

_Lord grant me strength._

She scrolled down, her best friend gleaming expectantly over her shoulder before realizing the action and snatching the phone away. 

"Any particular reason why it's a bunch of _Harley Quinn_ and _Poisen Ivy_ fan art?" 

"I have to get followers _somehow,_ Mari."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6 chapters in and I'm still like totally doing origins, what am I doing lmao who knows???


	7. Blood Orange Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the days grow darker as with Autumn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yah I know, it's been ages.
> 
> Life is hard, stuff gets busy, 
> 
> I'm so tired.
> 
> But I'm a happy little GRAD wOOOOOOOOOoooOOOOOOOooooooOOOOOO

Machines sputtered in the encroaching darkness. The hum of their grinding menacing mechanisms of mystery only overshadowed by the thunder claps resonating outside. The clickity tickity of an ancient film projector could be heard among the squall. Performing the magic of the Wizard of Menlo Park, as it's purpose had been for a century. The heroic escapades of Amiico's newest duo shuttering in succession across a musty white screen. Their actions in battle to be analyzed within an inch of their lives.

"I am very sorry for doubting your choice sir." Groveled an older voice, hidden within the shadows.

"They are excellent." Stated a still even older voice, and one might be assured the integrity of such a statement in it's tone. "You have trained them well, Tikki, Plagg."

The latter eyed his protege with an unreadable gaze. "They're good kids." It was gruff and vague but there was the smallest hint of pride. As Adrien executed a very good uppercut on a bulky akuma, a football coach at that. It was apparent that this was gracious praise, coming from the man.

His female companion broke in with her wistful voice tainted with concern. "They are so very young." 

There was no merriment or celebration in the triumph of the post-battle for they that surveyed. They merely kept note of tactic, they planned the next move, they plotted the strategy. This was a war and they were the generals. The soldiers were doing their duty but there was no hail to the conquering hero. There was only the next step to anticipate. The seriousness of this situation was ever present in each mind.

It wasn't that they were truly doing something so wrong, but it was not the ideal way to do something right.

_Had they really sent out the calves to lure the Bull back to pasture? To be slaughtered in his madness and blood lust?_

* * *

* * *

* * *

Smoke blew into her eyes and hair, she could feel it's scent embedding into her nostrils, suffocating long after the fire was out. 

It was time to move on, to go forward. Mission accomplished, job well done. 

Well done? Like a steak left too long on the fire. Burning, like the building before her eyes.

The heavy sigh beside her alerted her of her companion. Hadn't he left already?

"Come on Birdie, time to go. Parade's passed by." 

She did not appreciate the pun in that moment, this was  _not_ how she had expected the first Homecoming parade of her High School life to go.

She couldn't take her gaze from the ruin. The sirens of firetrucks and emergency vehicles making their way to destruction. It was far too late now, the building would have to burn to it's end. The damage had been too great.

"Ladybird. _Please,_ get away from here." He coaxed again. It wasn't his usual tone of ironic jest. It held anxiety, concern, a plea. 

He could see the light drain out of her with each lick of harsh flame.

"Shouldn't this have been fixed too?" She breathed out. It was asked incredulously but also with resignation. She was slowly coming to realize many things about her new situation.

"Not everything can be healed completely." He confirmed softly. And it hurt, it hurt him to say it, it hurt him more to see it. It hurt him to see her illusions of optimistic perfection come crashing. She had believed in the inherent goodness of the world. She has not lost her child like wonder for life. Yet, now he could see it slipping away.  

"But we saved a lot of people today." He finished, and marveled at his own word's brightness.

Maybe she smiled slightly, but the smile was not of the girl he met just a few weeks hence. It had been twisted with something that only one with the world on her shoulders can convey. He feared it would never be the same. 

"But not everybody." She sighed.

And his fears were confirmed.

* * *

* * *

* * *

They say to mark a person not by their friends but by their enemies.

If you had a lot of them, and they were generally nasty, then you were probably a pretty good person.

Marinette figured she should be a straight up saint. She could make a running track list of things that she shared natural animosity with.

  * Camo print
  * Wheat
  * Wheat by-products
  * Chloe
  * Texas Heat
  * Her own speech impediment 
  * Taco Bell 
  * Alya's insistence on calling her alter ego the wrong name



And now she could add to that list;

  * Burlap



Marinette " _I live in a bakery and am allergic to wheat_ " Dupain Cheng had found another common enemy in _burlap._

During Homecoming season.

In Texas.

_**Yikes.** _

For those unfamiliar to the fifth season in the Texas Year ( _76° with sleet tomorrow, Tornado Season, Summer, Extended Summer, Homecoming, and who even cares man it's Christmas_ ) It is that magical time of year when the population comes alive with the **SPIRIT.** Not the Holy Spirit, (though some could argue) I'm talking _School_ Spirit.

Think selective local patriotism with an extra addition of obsessive pride for something you don't actually care about in the slightest.

_Why is this night. This homecoming night, different from all other nights?_

 On all other nights High School Football is a casual competitive American pastime used to promote a healthy active lifestyle in youth. 

 On this night it is the single most important sporting event you will ever witness in your life, regardless if your team even wins any games at all. To miss it, is missing the most crucial  and anticipated episode while binging a television show your friend will quiz you on. It's like attending a gala event in crocs. If you don't participate, you are dead socially. You may hate football, you may not understand it for love or money, but for Heaven or Hell you better be there and cheering on your team.

 On all other nights, you may be subconsciously aware that your school mascot is say, ' _The Wolves'._

 On this night, you are a wolf. Hug your fursuited friend, you and that mascot are one body and soul. You have the cunning, the howl, and every other trait of that wolf inside you, and you better let it out before it consumes you whole. _Go on, eat the grandmother, eat Red Riding Hood, peer pressure is healthy and makes you grow._

 On all other nights you might have been under the impression the most important dance of High School is Prom and that at age 14 or 15 you don't have to worry that much about it yet. 

 On this night you better realize that Homecoming happens four years running and you better look smoking every time or you're dead man, just _dead._ You won't even live to see Prom.

On all other nights, a mum is a type of flower, or the thing kids with cool accents call their moms.

 On this night, it's a status symbol. 

If you're still unfamiliar with the terminology. A mum in regards to Homecoming in the south is sort of like an upgraded corsage. 

 It starts with a mum (or 3 or 5 or 8), usually silk, and grows more ridiculous.

Ribbons, commonly of team and school colors, intricate braids, shiny stickers, dangly garlands of plastic beads, stars, hearts, footballs. Plastic charms to represent hobbies and sports. Things with identification like " _freshman", "drum major", "class of 2020"_. Feathers, polka dots, glitter, and for some strange reason nobody really understands; Teddy Bears. 

And in more recent years, burlap.

There is no logic to it, there is no true reason or question as to why. It is just done and done again and will be done until the sun explodes.

 It wasn't that Marinette was constructing her mum entirely out of the ugly brown material, in fact she wasn't using any at all.

 It was that no matter where you turned it was there. Every corner, every aisle, every place where burlap could be, it was. Including on Alya.

Alya was a traitor. She had made her mum almost 67% burlap.

Marinette could not even stand within a five foot radius of it.

She was nauseous, more so than usual, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't see and she couldn't think. 

"I'm making it _Ladybug_ themed!" 

_And oh it just got better._

_"Ladybird._ _It's_ _**Ladybi** **rd** **."**_ It was a mumbled protest, as Marinette had long since given up on the constant correction in civilian form. Alya was too caught up in Burlap Bliss to pay any kind of attention anyway. 

 "And like how lucky (haha get it, lucky?) is it that our school colors are red and black? I mean it's like it was fated or something..." Alya was going to ramble on for the entire length of the Homecoming aisle of Hobby Lobby apparently. 

 _"Or something."_ Mumbled again her miserable companion. Knowing full well from Tikki that those colors has been specifically chosen because of the local allegiance to them. What better way for a Superhero to represent an area then by flying their colors? 

Like a sign from God another spool of vile brown fell seemingly from the sky and Mari wondered when her sins would be forgiven. Hitting her squarely on the head. The kinectic energy trasfer being caused by a rather ruckus of a sneeze quite nearby. Causing another suffering youth to fly squarely into the shaky display shelf and knock off several articles.

"Well this is a _total_ coincidence." Alya was saying, in an insincere voice. Somewhere behind the fog that Mari's allergies and now painful blow by craft goods had garnered. 

Their was a harmony of moans and groans from the girl who had gotten ambushed by ribbon and the unlucky soul who had caused it with his own allergic reaction.

"You okay amigo?" Nino was asking of non-other then Adrien " _I'm also allergic to the popular mum decoration of feathers"_ Agreste.

Marinette wanted to do several things as of the moment;

  * Embrace death
  * Blow her nose
  * Sink into the earth
  * Get an ice pack
  * **Kill** Alya _(gently)_ for setting this up and for using burlap and for overall being a generally inconsiderate person 



and then there was some little strange thing in the back of her mind where Adrien was having an allergic reaction and she was nursing him back to health and it wasn't turning out very appropriately and _this was why her sins had not been forgiven wasn't it?_

The thing she ended up doing was rubbing her head, giving the one beside her ' _in sickness and in health_ ' a look of "I feel your pain" and being scooped up by Alya in a hug that had come _way_ too late.

She would have also appreciated it if Alya had put down her burlap burdens before coming within that too small 5 ft. radius. 

Nino was explaining something about how they _'happened'_ to be in the area and just _coincidentally_ came in to get ideas for Adrien's first homecoming and how Adrien was allergic to feathers. A very viable excuse, if not for the very guilty looks he kept shooting Alya. Adrien was apologizing in between sneezes and also looking like some sort of poor defenseless creature who had fallen in a rain puddle. Mari would not allow herself to think of the word _'kitten'_ but it was a very _good_ word.

Then Alya was whispering "Y'all are so meant to be, you even suffer together." _And would she put down the goddamn burlap and let Marinette die in pieces?_

"Get that burlap away from me Alya, or else I'm going to knock off more than a shelf of ribbon." And she realized she looked like an awful person but she also realized that she wasn't stuttering and then she realized her voice sounded like someone had run it through a cheese grater. She felt mortified but also empowered. _She should get a leather jacket._

"Geez oh yeah, I'm sorry girly I forgot." At least Alya looked genuinely sorry. At least Adrien looked genuinely concerned. At least Chloe was, _not here._ "Mari's super allergic to burlap. Homecoming season is Hell for her." 

"Wow, that sucks." Adrien had somehow managed to cough out, and somehow managed to stop hysterically sneezing and somehow understood how Marinette must feel when her speech impediment cropped up. 

"My boy Adrien here, is super sensitive to feathers. I'm surprised he didn't just shit himself." Nino was the usual from of eloquence of the average Texan teen. He also had the same knack for finding good topic in conversation.

Even after the good four weeks Adrien had of public schools exposure he was still genuinely surprised at the amount of things Nino just could, **say.**

Mari seemed a little flabbergasted but Alya was not phased.

"That's rough buddy. Check out the shit for my mum though, it's _Ladybug_ themed."

Marinette was rolling her eyes and again grumbling the words " _It's **Ladybird.**_ **"** As Adrien stumbled out at the same moment with "Don't you mean **_Ladybird?"_**

That fantasy with the nurse costume just turned into one where she started relentlessly snogging Adrien Agreste in Hobby Lobby and Marinette knew she needed to find out if those bubbles made from Holy Water were an actual thing they sold.

"Well that's what _Catboy_ calls her."

Nino had been skeptical about the amount of times Alya had swore to him that Mari and Adrien were made for each other, but after seeing them roll their eyes simultaneously not 1, but _3_ times during Alya's dismissal of Chat Noir, he no longer doubted her logic.

Plus they both had insane allergies, it was like they were fated or something... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have no idea what I'm doing
> 
> But Homecoming is my fave time of year so


	8. The Fact That You Don't Appreciate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I actually try to show another angle to the love square

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I'm a horrible person who waits an entire summer to update.  
> The good news: I'm not dead.  
> The bad news: I might as well be.  
> The really bad news: Gene Wilder is. :(((
> 
> I have no internet that is my excuse.

In retrospect, it was a foolish oversight for the school to have kept Superhero Day on the Spirit Week schedule with the advent of two local superheroes.

They couldn't have been blind to the consequence of 75 teenagers in nearly identical cosplays, especially in a school that held students with a few uncanny likenesses. Adrien Agreste and Chloe Bourgeoisie were a good example, and today they were both clad in matching spotted jumpsuits.

"Two for one deal." Chloe had bragged, and Adrien didn't refute it, despite trying to separate himself from his childhood friend's unfortunate reputation. After all it was something they could still agree on, Ladybird was amazing, and they were not the only ones.

Marinette didn't know whether to feel flattered or disturbed by the sheer amount of Ladybirds that roamed the halls. It felt good to be appreciated, especially in such a short time since she had even started, yet it was unnerving to see even Jaxon of all people, spotting her look. It proved that hero worship was one thing that everyone had in common.

She herself was the odd one out, the singular cat in a sea of spots. Which indeed did earn her a few odd looks, and she worried her reputation might earn a mark of significance if anyone got any notion that she was an obsessive fangirl. Yet, the overall mission was to support her partner, and she could just see the Cheshire grin on his face if he were to see at least one Chat appreciator. She knew he probably would, she had already figured out he was the same age or quite close, and it wasn't like there were multiple high schools. Yes, Chat would know that he hadn't been overlooked, which she knew would be very important, especially since she was worried he might be a bit of a sad soul.

She ended up being 1 of 7 Chat Noirs, the rest from older classes but expressing their admiration for the other half of the duo quite vocally. Mari felt very glad and less like a sore thumb. Not to mention the other half of the student body dressed as a mix of Batmans, Supermans, Wonder Womans, Captain Americas, Black Widows, Peggy Carters, Supergirls, Captain Marvels, Thors, and even a couple Bucky Barnes and Harley Quinns defending their faves to their graves.

Adrien even mentioned how he had initially thought about being Larryboy. This combined with his official Ladybird™ costume. Making Mari wonder how she fell in love with such a huge dork.

Then he'd seen her costume and his eyes had shown with a beauty unsurpassed, almost shedding a tear or two in his emotion.  
"You didn't want Chat to feel left out, huh?"

_Oh yeah that was how._

Of course, this being Adrien, and Mari being cursed at birth by her half snockered fairy godmother to never be able to talk to him properly, she could only nod.

"I think your's is the best out of all of these, really." He admitted with absolute conviction.

So like, lung function? Not a thing that worked anymore for Marinette. For a brief moment she wondered if she would make it out conscious, or even alive. Her mouth only enunciating something that was trying to be a thank you.

The problem was that her "Th-th-th" came out sounding more like "Fu-fu-fu" as in the short u sound.

"Thank you." Alya supplied for her, grabbing her shoulders and guiding her away from the escalating mortification. While Mari's inner monologue completed the sentence in the more expected fashion.

_Fuck fuck fuck._

* * *

* * *

* * *

"So," began Alya in her tactful tone in the restroom moments later. Where Marinette pressed a wet paper towel to her own forehead and tried to steady her breathing.

"Do you like have a thing for Kitty Boy?"

"Chat Noir." Marinette corrected almost habitually now, it had to be the 29th time she'd had to do so. Alya's very blatant prejudice against her partner, and her opinion that he was unworthy of the Lady in Red, were obviously hard to change. Though she was trying.

She really wished she had lost consciousness now, if at least to avoid this conversation.

"Well?" Alya pressed, looking for answers like the intrepid reporter she was convinced she was.

"Well what?"

"Do you have the hots for Chat Noir?" The tone reflected Alya's exasperation, the volume could probably be heard in Paris, _France_.

"If I had the hots for Chat Noir would I be suffering a mini seizure from Adrien Agreste paying me a compliment?" Mari's tone was level, but Alya should have known better than to mess with the sound of pure exhausted fury behind it, saying ' _approach with caution_ '.

"Yes? Possibly? A person can have two crushes, I do."

Marinette was about to ask who the second one was, but she realized immediately that it was so clearly her alter ego that she found the question redundant. Instead she tried to ignore the fact that she was literally friend-zoning Alya daily, even though Alya didn't know it, did that make her the worst best friend ever?

"I don't." A statement which could have been followed by ' _Final Answer, Regis_.' yet wasn't.

Still despite shooting down any possibility of polyamory, Alya still wanted some logical explanation.

"Then why would you be the only person to dress as him?"  
  
"Because I know how it feels to be the one nobody notices, I like to think that, if Chat Noir sees the pictures from Spirit Week, or even goes to this school. It's a major possibility. That he'll get a nice feeling from the fact that at least one person liked him enough, not that way, to cosplay him in a school of Ladybirds. It's nice to be appreciated." And as she professed this, Mari slowly became reanimated, finally able to remove the paper towel from her forehead. Her eyes shining like Joan of Arc must've looked during a vision, as one who truly believes in what she says.

Alya could only gaze in frustrated admiration.  
"Why are you so perfect? It's annoying."

"Nobody's perfect." She replied without thinking fully of consequence, coming off her high of pure goodness.

No, she hadn't thought of consequence. Alya was smirking wickedly.

"Everybody makes mistakes."

"NO."

" _Everybody has those days_."

" _STOP_."

" ** _Everybody knows what, what I'm talking bout', everybody feels that way_**."

" **ALYA, I SWEAR TO GOD.** "

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

HawkMoth often found himself wondering what would set him off if he were a mere mortal perceptible to Akumas. 

He didn't have any doubt now, it would be Pokemon Go.

Children.Teenagers. Millennials. Having  _fun_? In his line of sight?

It might be more plausible than you think. 

It was so annoying, families walking together. _Bonding_. In his day, families didn't bond, they ignored each other and then blamed the youth if they developed any problems. The proper custom. 

What was this _family bonding_?

Sickening.

And maybe he was a little salty because he couldn't get the servers to work even once. 

It was like he was a criminal or something.

He didn't deserve this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't deserve this.


End file.
